Boy and Bonsly
by Skendr
Summary: Here's a pokemon fic that will intruige and surprise you. Give it a go, you might like it. It's a way of me experimenting, and will become a means for me to voice my opinion, and to prompt yours. Let me know what you think, that's the idea.
1. Daniel

**Boy and Bonsly**

I'm lying in bed, looking up. My mother's eyes are smiling. Her cheeks crease. She lets me grab her finger with my whole hand and I pull on it, as hard as I can and it doesn't do a thing to her, she doesn't feel a thing. I giggle at her, because she's silly, and put her finger in my mouth. I can feel the canyons and valleys of her knuckles against my soft jaw. She laughs at me and takes her sloppy finger out, patting my head softly.

Door knock. Knock knock on the door. Who will it be? Not daddy, never daddy. He'd been dead for months, but I didn't understand. Door knock, door knock. Mummy leaves. No! Don't leave! Don't leave me! Her face is gone, I can't see her face anymore, it's gone to look at the door and who wants to come inside. I cry out for her. Her face comes back. I smile. Cheeks push up, mouth comes undone, I show My Mum the little rows of nothings that'll grow to teeth in the time it takes them to do it. Mummy's face has lost its grin, though, her eyes are all concerned and brow down. Another face. Another face. Whoops, up we go, out of the cot, into the air. Tight grip hurts my underarms. There's mummy's face! Reach out to mummy. She turns her eyes away. Drip, drip, they go, behind her back. What's that for, then? Hup! Over a shoulder, looking at mummy's back now, new hair all in my face. Yucky, new blonde hair, taste salty and bland. Hup, hup, bounce bounce bounce we go, out the door and down the road. My Mum stays still. I wave goodbye. Goodbye, My Mum!

Balancing act to get the car door open, and now I'm in a little seat. The new face, the new person, she buckles me in nice and tight so I don't fall out. Into the driver's seat she goes and we're all ready for our trip. Brummmmm goes the car when the key goes in, and we're off! Down the bumpy dusty orange road.

I've got a good view out the window in my high seat. I turn around, to look at all the sights, there's my house, going away in the distance. There's mummy. I can hear her through the glass. She's screaming, her hands are up in the air, she wants me to come back. Her eyes are dripping out. Drip, drip, big black bad river stains down her cheeks, huge sobs, huge gulps of air. I do a little grunt, turning round in my seat to try and grab hold of mummy. She's very far away now, but she still holds her arms out too. Can't reach.

"Uhh!" I say, in a concerned manner.

"That's right, little Daniel, say bubye to mummy now, wave goodbye little Daniel, that's the way. There we go. You'll be safe soon, so don't you worry."

So I start to bawl.

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The only morning I remember from living in Orre. I distinctly remember the big old baobab trees. That's all. Their branches were bobbing in the wind. And the ground was orange, not green like it is now.

I can remember the car. I'd never been in a car before. The upholstery was so soft, compared to anything I'd felt. There was a woollen cover on the seatbelt. I loved the feel of it. I sat in a special seat, higher than the others, because I was too young to fit in the normal seats, and I watched the bouncing branches on the baobab trees out the window.

I can hardly remember my parents at all. Not at all. I can't remember anything about my father; I am told he was taken. A lot of people got taken in Orre. It was nothing important, nothing unusual. No matter he was my dad, people disappeared all the time, it was selfish of me to spend my time worrying.

I have a new father now.

And what of my mother? There's nothing there. I don't remember her. I know she wasn't taken, I know she looked after me when my father wasn't there. The taste of metal and water reminds me of her. The warmth of her bosom when she carried me. Sometimes, I catch a smell, and it reminds me of someone I'd never met before and I think maybe it's her.

My new mother doesn't think so.

They gave me a Bonsly. I was crying, when they took me home I started crying and I wouldn't stop and so they took me to a pokemon lab and told me to choose a pokemon. They didn't know what I was crying for. They took me from my parents and called themselves mum and dad, and put me to sleep in a strange cot and they couldn't, for the life of them, figure out why I was crying. What do we do? they said to each other. The baby is crying, for God's sakes, make it stop. Give it a pokemon, kids like pokemon, that'll make him stop. So they took me to the lab and bought me a pokemon- bought me their piece of mind that I wasn't unhappy, that I would stop bellowing. Bonsly reminded me of the baobab branches and I pointed him out and so they bought that one for me.

They gave me Bonsly. I stopped crying. He's all I've ever had.

-----------------------------

My name isn't really Daniel. I don't know my real name. My mother never told it to me. Maybe she didn't want me to have that thought in my mind the whole time. That constant thinking 'This is who I could have been.' I should be grateful for that. I have a life, and a future, and I should be grateful. I'm not though; I'm just bitter. All that stuffing around with my childhood just made me bitter. All I'm really grateful for now is Bonsly. Just Bonsly. I never gave him a name. How can I name something else, when I don't know my real name to begin with? Just Bonsly's fine, it was fine when I was little, it's fine now.

It was three days till my first day at a new school, and I was in the kitchen with Mum talking to my grandmother. Though she was very upper-class and close-minded, I loved talking to her. I think I felt like she believed in me, thought I was something worthwhile. Dad's so headstrong, Mum's so weak. Jen pretends I don't exist. Grandma's nice enough for a chat; always honest, if nothing else. Honesty was something I valued highly. It's odd, looking back at the conversation, considering what my first day at the school would actually be like.

-------------------------

"Say hello to your grandma, Daniel."

"Hello, Grandma."

"Gosh, Daniel, I don't think you've grown a bit since I last saw you. Have they been feeding you here?"

"Yes, Grandma, of course we've been feeding him. He'll grow. He's just taking his time, aren't you Daniel?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Shy as well as skinny, I see. You'll have to grow tougher than that if you're going to survive in this world, my boy."

"Tell Grandma about what's happening on Thursday, Daniel. She'd like to here about that."

"What's happening on Thursday, Daniel?"

"Daniel?"

"Daniel's going to school on Thursday, Gran."

"Oh, it's about time, too. Home schooling never did any good to anyone, in my opinion. Half of what they teach you at school is in the playground, I've always said. You can't learn that, bottled up indoors all day, nobody else to talk to. You'll make lots of friends at school."

He grabs my collar and, choking me, pulls me off the dirt hard and onto my feet. The fabric tears by the time he's let go.

"Have you got everything all ready then, Daniel? Know what you're going to wear and so forth?"

He punches me hard in the chest and I double over, winded.

"Yes, Gran, I've got everything all sorted out."

"Oh, that's lovely. I'm sure you'll have a marvellous time at school. Barkleigh's, I assume, like his sister?"

"That's right. I just couldn't cope sending him anywhere else. If he's going to have a school education, it had better be a proper one."

Someone else grabs my pants and pulls me up by my undies. My legs writhe around, looking for ground, and my eyes bulge with pain. I kick the second person in the shins and they drop me hard. I collapse, and get a kick in the back.

"Yes, Barkleigh's is a lovely place. Do they still teach you the good old fashioned basics on how to be a trainer there these days?"

The first guy pulls me up off the ground by my hair and then pushes me back into the dirt again, rubbing my face in the pine-bark. I spit dirt out and he takes my arm, forcing it behind my back.

"Oh, Esther dear, you're getting a little old. Still set in that old pokemon trainer routine? That's an old path, Grandma, you know hardly anyone treads there any more."

"But Daniel here wants to be a pokemon trainer; I know it, he's told me. I think it's a fine path to tread."

"Yes, well, we all know where our Graham stands on that one. No, I don't think Daniel's going to be a trainer if his parents have anything to do with it- Perhaps something more respectable, like a lawyer, or a doctor."

I struggle, but my arm is locked. I can't move, so I lie there and take it. My friend watches from nearby, with all the others who have come to stare.

"I think being a pokemon trainer is perfectly respectable. And he's already got little Bonsly, so he's well on his way already."

The guy on my back pushes my head to the side, and spits in my face. Then he gets off me, and I scramble to my feet.

"Grandma, you know there's no future for pokemon trainers these days. This is Kanto, not Hoenn, and while in Kanto we shall act like Kantons do. If he wanted to be a trainer, he'd move to Hoenn, wouldn't you dear?"

"_Filthy Orre boy! Go home!"_ he shouts, and I run. He laughs at me behind my back, calling out to me as I leave. Bonsly follows me, panting along as fast as he can. _"Wait for your filthy Orre-animal, Daniel! Little Bonsly can't keep up!"_ I can't even face turning round and waiting for Bonsly to catch up, so he has to run with me, all the way home.

"Yes, Mum."

I'd never cried so many tears before in my life. I didn't know what to think. It felt like my eyes had run dry. Mum opened the door when I got home.

"That's the way dear. You'll have a lovely time at school, I'm sure."

"Best day of your life."


	2. Kate

There's a new boy at our school. His name is Daniel, he's from Orre. He's in my class. He sits at the back, minding his own business most of the time. He's really quiet. I think he's been home-schooled for ages, so he's never been to a real school before. He's got a lot of learning to do.

There's a new boy at our school. Yeah, he's from Orre. Everybody was teasing him today, because he brought his pokemon to school. It wasn't even 'bring your pokemon to school day' or anything, he just brought it along for the company I think. Maybe someone told him he'd make more friends like that. It was a Bonsly, too- that's how come everyone knew he wasn't from Kanto. Nobody in Kanto would take their Bonsly to school with them. Nobody in Kanto would even admit to having a Bonsly. Most people just pretend they don't know what a Bonsly is.

There's a new boy at our school. Daniel. He hardly talks at all, and he takes his Bonsly around with him everywhere, coz it's his only friend. That's why people in different regions are so unadvanced, Dad says; they rely so heavily on their pokemon. Jamie sat next to him all day, but I don't think he spoke much. Jamie's kinda weird anyway- maybe he thought he'd finally get a friend or something. Fine with me. Nobody ever speaks to Jamie and nobody's gonna wanna speak to the new kid either, so they'll probably get along well together. Too bad if they don't; they don't really have much choice. Maybe if they acted like normal people, they'd have normal friends.

There's a new boy at our school. His name's Daniel, and he's really sweet. He's got the prettiest deep brown eyes and this kind of straw-coloured brown hair. And he's got freckles on his nose. I think they're so cute. I think he saw me looking at him. I hope nobody else did. If anyone saw me checking out the little Orre kid, they'd think I was a freak or had some weird fetish or something. I still think he's cute though. I didn't talk to him today- he hardly talked to anyone, except his Bonsly. It's so cute! Nobody carries their pokemon around with them anymore, it's so cool he's got one not many people know about, even if it is from Orre. I wonder what happened to him over there? Maybe something dreadful and he had to run away from home. Maybe his parents were cannibals. I've heard there are cannibals in Orre. I wish he didn't sit next to Jamie, Jamie's such a loser. Maybe I'll sit next to him tomorrow.

There's a new boy at our school. He seems nice enough, if a little withdrawn. He just needs to get used to the classroom environment- they probably didn't have proper schooling at his old home. He's from Orre. Well, I don't mind, as long as none of the parents complain. Not my job to judge, just my job to teach. The other students seem to be getting on fine with him.

There's a new boy at our school. He's from Orre, and he carries his stinking Orre pokemon around with him everywhere. It's disgusting. He's a freak, nobody likes him. He sat by himself like a loner at lunch, it was hilarious. I know what my dad thinks of people from Orre- I'm not stupid, I know what they do over there. I'm not letting a kid like that have it easy at Barkleigh's. I taught him a lesson after school- I felt a bit better after. I hope he never comes back.

There's a new boy at our school.

KATE

Was kinda a surprise when Mrs Braeden stood a new kid up in front of the class today. He looked so scared; so lost and alone. One hand clutched a little Bonsly at the branches on his head. Bonsly looked nervous too. Mrs Braeden told us all his name was Daniel, and that he was a new kid and everybody remembers what it's like being the new kid, don't they, so all play nicely in the playground.

She's so blissfully ignorant sometimes, Mrs Braeden. She thinks just because we don't know how to spell words, or can't think of the right one to put in the right order, we don't think properly and we're all stupid. I guess that's what they teach you at Primary School Teacher school. They don't realise we all have thinking, talking parents with interesting lives and important jobs and we understand how things happen round here, even if we don't know how to say it to adults. We're all at Barkleigh's, that at least should count for something. It means our parents are rich- which means they have high-earning jobs- which means they've gotten their way to the top- which in turn, I guess, means that they're all clever people. Or assassins, maybe. She could give us a little credit, I think, could Mrs Braeden.

Mrs Braeden sat up there and told us all about the new kid and tried to pretend we didn't all know straight away he was from Orre, from the dirty region; what that meant for him. We all had important, high up parents who had told us all about the problem with Orre. What happened to everyone. The downfall. We've all heard the stories about the Shadow Pokemon, destroying the landscape; about the people overthrowing the government and ripping apart society; about all the tribes that live there now, breeding all the pokemon they can, trying to nurse the land back to a healthy state. We know about the people that got killed. That was all years and years ago, and people think we don't know but we do. We all know. We all listen to our parents talking. It's all such a huge mess, they say to each other with worried looks. What are we going to do? What are our children going to do?

And there have been plenty of rumours going round about what the people in Orre turned out like, after they overthrew the government, went back to their roots and got in touch with the pokemon again. There were a lot of stories. I've heard them all- which is pretty reasonable, considering who my father is. Orre villagers, savages, cannibals even. All Orrens have rabies, Orrens never take showers. They sleep with their pokemon, they "sleep" with their pokemon. They eat pokemon. They eat each other. They'll eat you; they'll come to your house at night and creep through your window and eat you while you're sleeping. We're all just scared, because they're so much more right than we are.

That's true- they're right. They've got it right. All this stuffing round with pokemon and training and everything and the Orrens just figured out how to actually connect with them. The rest of us can't handle it. That's what the real problem is; what we all want more than anything else is our pokemon to understand us, but they don't. And an Orren comes along and just does it, just like that. It's not fair, we're all jealous. It's strange now, the Orrens are slowly siphoning into the other regions, moving out, and we're only just realising how very right they are. That's the true reason why we all hate Orrens, because they're so much better than us.

I suppose Kantons pride themselves on being on a higher level than all that 'Pokemon Trainer' stuff that ruled everybody's lives for so long. No, we're better than all that now, we're doctors and lawyers and teachers- and we go to schools to learn how to be people, not how to train pokemon. We're over all that. I don't know if that's really true; that's what we hope is true. Someone from Orre comes along with his Bonsly, all doting and understanding and they have their bond, their connection, like nobody on Kanto could ever dream of having; it reminds us all what we're pretending we're better than, rubs our faces in it. So, we make up vicious rumours about the savage Orrens and don't talk to any new kid called Daniel who carries a Bonsly around with him everywhere.

Bonsly. The coolest pokemon to have ten years ago; now it's the symbol of Orre, of that terrible nation that figured it out before we did. We hate Bonsly, we hate Daniel, we hate Orre. I don't think he even realises.

I saw them. I was there, after school. I saw Jake and the boys beating him up. I saw his little Bonsly running around, trying to figure out how to help his friend. I didn't do anything. I'm weak. It's disgusting, the way Jake controls people. He has power over us and he knows it. I stood there and watched him slog into Daniel again and again, and I didn't do anything because it's Jake and nobody can do anything. Bonsly couldn't even do anything. Daniel didn't even realise why everyone was laughing at him; pointing, jeering, spitting on him. Nobody talked to him the whole day and at the end of it, they took him outside and beat him up. And his little Bonsly ran with him, all the way home. That's what you get for coming from Orre.

They think we don't know. Mrs Braeden and all the rest. They think we're little kids having happy little primary school lives and smiling and laughing all day. They think we don't realise how screwed up this society we're a part of is. But we do. We're the children of the leaders of today, and we're going to lead tomorrow. When I get in charge, there's going to be some changes around here.


End file.
